writing life

Crossing Over with YA

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 12 Comments

I often get queries that state plainly, “I’m writing to you because I know you enjoy crossover YA and I think my story is perfect for you.” Yes, it is true I prefer my YA to be more enjoyed by more than just teens, but I noticed that many of the eager writers are missing the point when submitting their crossover manuscripts. Like with most things, there is no “one ultimate rule” when defining what makes crossover YA. There are, however, many traps writers set for themselves when trying to write in this style. As a fan of the genre when it’s done right, I’m hoping to debunk the spiral of lies that writers often fall into so that the wide definition of Crossover becomes a little more narrow.

Crossover YA Means Older Teen/Younger Adult Characters:
Having a college-aged main character or a senior in high school who find him-or-herself in “adult situations” can mean that older readers will latch onto your story. Though, for the most part, having an older character, in my opinion, can do your YA a disservice. By focusing too much on having the age of the characters match that of your intended audience, you not only risk alienating a wider audience, but you could also lose focus on the story you want to tell vs. the story you think you should tell. Writing what you want should always take precedent. Worry about where characters’ ages fall later.(This is also true in deciding on Middle Grade vs. Young Adult.)

But Adults Won’t Read Books With Narrators/MCs Under 14:
Tell that to J.K. Rowling, Harper Lee, Jonathan Safran Foer, and Orson Scott Card – to name a few. While J.K. is the only one on that list to have a “true YA premise,” the others have proven that just because a character’s voice hasn’t yet changed doesn’t mean it can’t still resonate with the big kids.

OK, but back to this “true YA premise” – Won’t that alienate adult readers?
Fair point. I’ll return to the Harry Potter example from above. Tell the average grown-up that you’re reading a book about eleven-year-old wizards who attend a magic school and regularly encounter giants, unicorns, and dragons, and they will probably say, “That’s nice, Junior; now go run along and play.” Tell the same person you’re reading a book about three friends who work together to battle a force of evil responsible for the deaths of the main character’s parents, and they might be more inclined to take you seriously. Adjust the general plot for the more fantasy-minded reader, and you have a book they won’t want to put down, regardless of age. In other words, a great story is a great story. What a reader chooses to take from isn’t always what the author writes intentionally.

My Main Characters Takes a Bunch of Illegal Drugs, Has Sex With Four Different People, and then Murders Someone Within the 1st Thirty Pages. Not exactly the stuff YA is made of.
How old is this drug-taking nympho murderer? Who was murdered and why? Does another teen have to solve the case? Is there a lengthy and potentially boring-for-teens trial? Will the main character learn something about him-or-herself by the end?

The answers to these questions will help you decide which age group this falls under, but never assume that something can’t be YA just because of content. There are always contributing factors that make it go one way or another.

A Book Without an Target Reader in Mind Won’t Sell
According to my query pile, writers seem very concerned about which section of a bookstore their work will be displayed. I completely understand why writers of crossover YA would be concerned about this. That said, it should in no way effect how you approach writing your novel. Sometimes you will find that given then story you created, the only logical age your characters can be is around nineteen, twenty, or twenty-one. Where they end up in a bookstore, in these cases, is dependent on the nature of the writing and the plot.

So that means I should, like, make my characters talk all YA, even though the plot is epic and totally more appealing and appropriate for people, like, way older?
No. Your characters need to make sense given the situations they are in and the tone you are trying to master. If a teenager is in an adult situation that can only be an adult situation, write their character accordingly.

Fine. But what if my freshman-in-college protagonist and her senior-in-college boyfriend go on a road trip in search of the mother she thought she lost in Katrina, but when they arrive in New Orleans, the only thing they find is… themselves.
Other than having an overly sentimental cliche on your hands, I’d say you have a perfect example of “either/or.” In this case, use your instincts. I’ve given advice to make a character younger or older based on the plot and writing style. Likewise, I’ve had writers tweak their plot to better suit a younger audience. These minor changes are inevitable when you have this type of novel. But, for the most part, the minor changes are never deal-breakers.

So, what you’re saying is I should just write my story and stop freaking out that it’s not YA enough or too YA?
Right. Be mindful of a potential audience, keep your story in keeping with the characters, and let the characters adapt to the plot in a way their ages and life experiences would realistically allow. But don’t get wrapped up in who’s going to read it. Just focus on the story you want to tell.

This, of course, is all easier said than done. The best way to avoid the spiral is to remember to trust your reader while writing, and then trust your agent and editor while trying to publish. Mostly though – trust yourself as a writer to get across what you want to say to the people you want to say it without even trying 🙂

Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 26 Comments

When someone asks you what you do, what do you say? Writer? Author? Artist? Do you mutter a general job description and immediately follow it up with … but, ya know, I’m just doing this for now!?

There’s always a little bit of a debate in the yet-to-be-published community on whether they are “writers” or “authors.” I know industry people who think they are one in the same, that the words are interchangeable. I am not one of these people. To me, a writer is a person who is serious about his or her craft and has the drive, knowledge, and skill to someday get published. An author is someone who has been published.

Now, there was some news this week about a certain Jersey Shore cast member and her work of fiction that looks astonishingly like her real life. Folks, I hate to say this, but Snooki is an author. I know. I’ll give you a minute.

OK, now that we’ve calmed down, a slight digression: When I was little, I wore Barbie lip gloss and ate Flinstones vitamins. The packagers stuck a familiar face on an otherwise commonplace product so that they could better compete within specific markets. Enter Snooki’s novel.

In the same way that Hanna-Barbera Productions did not manufacture pharmaceuticals in between creating beloved cartoon characters, Snooki having a book with her name on the cover does not make her a writer. (This is also in part because her book was, presumably, largely ghostwritten.) That’s not to say other celebrities who have written books aren’t writers. It’s just that Snooki and her ilk (be it Kardashian or Hilton) are the brand of celebrities that are, well, brands. The line is a fine one, but it’s there. President Obama, for example, is a writer. For one, he actually penned his words. And two, he was not a celebrity or even a politician of much note when his memoir was published. And in the manner of being fair and balanced, I’ll admit that Bill O’Reilly is also a writer. I repeat, it’s a fine line, but if you look closely enough, the differences between real writers and “people who have book deals” are clear.

So, back to you.

If not all writers are authors and not all authors are writers, where does that leave you? I bring this question up because I think it’s something fun to think about. There is no right answer. It’s only slightly bothersome to me when a writer queries me claiming to be a “published author” when they mean “I know how  to click a button that will bind my manuscript for me,” which is why I make my own distinctions between writers and authors. But writers who are serious about what they do deserve more than just being called “people who write,” so they have every right to claim that label proudly for themselves. But you tell me – what do you call yourselves? Or do you just say “I’m awesome” and leave it at that?

Finally, as you ponder what to call yourselves this weekend, I leave you with this week’s Winner of  the Internet, James Van Der Beek and his Vandermemes. Personally, I’d like to thank Mr. Van Der Beek for finally justifying my preference of Dawson over Pacey. It  took over a decade, and I was getting tired of defending my choices (you’d be surprised how often it would come up over the years), but I feel that my love of the Van Der Beek and my indifference to Joshua Jackson has been vindicated. Well done, sir.

Here We Are Now; Entertain Us

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 19 Comments

I’ve been noticing something for the past couple of weeks. I was trying to ignore it, but now other events, that are just as strange, have made that impossible. Friends, on the streets of New York, I’ve been seeing… scrunchies. I’m not talking about the occasional sighting in tourist-ridden Times Square or on the ironically nostalgic streets of Brooklyn. No, these scrunchies are appearing on subways, in Greenwich Village, and in my very own neighborhood. In other words, they’ve hit the mainstream. I mean, what would Carrie Bradshaw say!?

I was willing to let this go. But then, last week on Twitter I saw that #why90srocked was trending, and Monday night on Conan, CAKE performed. Throw in the way-too-soon-and-downright-evil reboot of Buffy and the fact that teenagers all over the country think that being trendy means dressing like me in 3rd grade, and we have one viable conclusion – the ’90s are back.

This is sad to me for two reasons. The main reason is that, since fashion and trends are cyclical, this means that my generation is now the previous generation. This is depressing on an obvious level, not that we all didn’t see this coming. The other reason the ’90s being back is worrisome is because pretty soon we’re all going to have to re-learn, the hard way, that snap bracelets hurt!

As a ’90s enthusiast, however, I’m excited about the return to what I consider the most interesting decade in modern history (pipe down, ’60s fans, I got your back too). I won’t pretend I fully understood the cultural impact the ’90s had on the country at the time; I’m only now, in my late twenties, beginning to process what I had missed while I was busy growing up.

But, to me, the ’90s symbolized hope. Civil rights, including those of women and LGBT (an acronym, by the way, that started in the ’90s), were by no means where they needed to be, but it felt as if equality was finally on the way. Clinton started DADT, and while that was a bad decision (my blog = my opinion), it still managed to spark a national debate, one that is still very present in the news almost twenty years later. Yet, twenty years before that, I doubt anyone would have even noticed yet another government mandated form of intolerance. We probably wouldn’t have been told it was going on.

More than that, the ’90s, in retrospect only, represent the “before.” Better days, if you will, whatever that means. In the way that “post-war” became attached to literature, film, and even architectural structures after World War II, the phrase “post-9/11” infiltrated our culture in what we read, watch, and how we act. With that one morning, the economically positive, civil rights-defending, overall hopefulness of the ’90s came to a screeching halt. (I’m not, by the way, suggesting that 9/11 is the source of our current financial crisis. It is NOT. Just want to make that clear.) In the early ’00s, we managed to reinstate socially acceptable racism, only this time with a different face. We had a president who not only encouraged this, but he gave the racism a catchy name (“Axis of Evil”). Suddenly having a cowboy in the White House seemed more logical; I guess so he could play his role in the disaster film we were currently living.

The post-9/11, post-’90s world also created a wave of conservatism that, in addition to racial minorities, gays and women were back to being targets – with fewer voices willing to dissent this time around. The idea of two men or  two women getting married is an actual debate. This should say everything there is to say about the way we (America) feel is acceptable behavior. Likewise, a qualified, intelligent, and, yes, ambitious woman was thisclose to being president, and yet she is still, to this day, being denigrated for her choice in clothing, rather than being challenged on her policies. Likewise, I doubt Sarah Palin and Christine O’Donnell would receive even a fraction of “credibility” were it not for their darn physical attractiveness.

We live in a time of The Tea Party, a hate group that has not gained such national attention and support since the early days of the KKK. If the ’90s are coming back, I say bring it on. I’ll suffer through a Vanilla Ice comeback tour if it means returning to a time not dictated by fear and hate.

I don’t usually get so political here, so I’d like to state again that my blog represents my opinion only. Please respect it, especially in the comments section, and I’ll do the same for you.

Now, that said – what does all of this have to do with you as writers? Well, everything. Writers are the ones who get to dictate what’s remembered. We’re both a reflection of, and a cause of, what is happening around us.  The bestselling fiction authors of the 1990s do not differ too much from what we see today. It seems there will always be a Grisham, King, or Koontz novel on that list somewhere. Only now our terrorists and monsters represent different things than before. Will we see a return to Anne Rice vampires? Bridges over Madison, or other, counties? What about books like Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk, that represented a decade so perfectly, the way Jay McInerney and Bret Easton Ellis represented the ’80s? Books written “about the time” in the ’00s were automatically labeled post-9/11. It practically became its own genre. Lorrie Moore’s The Gate at the Stairs comes to mind, but there are others.

Did you know that the New York Times didn’t even have a Children’s Best Seller List until 2000? Apparently they wanted Harry Potter to get off the “real” list, so they gave it its own place. Writers, this speaks volumes of the power you have now.

We’re lucky enough to have finally returned to generation that doesn’t need to be pre- or post- anything. And when the previous generation returns, it means one thing – a new one has just begun. Contribute to its discourse, write its history, and, most importantly, entertain us.

Read. Prey. Exploit.

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 16 Comments

By now you have probably heard of the ghastly “James Frey Fiction Factory” news that broke over the weekend. In case you were away, this paragraph from the NY Magazine article sums it up:

“This is the essence of the terms being offered by Frey’s company Full Fathom Five: In exchange for delivering a finished book within a set number of months, the writer would receive $250 (some contracts allowed for another $250 upon completion), along with a percentage of all revenue generated by the project, including television, film, and merchandise rights—30 percent if the idea was originally Frey’s, 40 percent if it was originally the writer’s. The writer would be financially responsible for any legal action brought against the book but would not own its copyright. Full Fathom Five could use the writer’s name or a pseudonym without his or her permission, even if the writer was no longer involved with the series, and the company could substitute the writer’s full name for a pseudonym at any point in the future. The writer was forbidden from signing contracts that would “conflict” with the project; what that might be wasn’t specified. The writer would not have approval over his or her publicity, pictures, or biographical materials. There was a $50,000 penalty if the writer publicly admitted to working with Full Fathom Five without permission.”

Gross, right? The always brilliant Maureen Johnson had an equally brilliant blog post about it as well.

Writers, if this is not evidence of the importance of agents, I don’t know what is. Desperation to get published is never an excuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. What’s more, Mr. Frey is going into my old stomping grounds – the MFA classroom – to prey on his victims. What strikes me as odd about this is that the average MFA candidate is not taught “high concept,” or even knows what it means, and they usually scoff at genre fiction, but it seems as if that is all James is looking for.

The desire to get published and work with “super famous author” can make a person compromise their style, and I am not above advocating “commercializing” a novel for the sake of publication. But! You should never, ever compromise your ideals – whether it’s in your writing or in your own self-worth. You are worth more than $250. Much, much more.

Speaking from an industry professional’s point of view, this is appalling on many levels. It is an agent’s job to protect the writer from contracts like this. Not only would the writer not get paid nearly enough for their work, but Frey makes it so his company can decide not to pay you at all. Add in a little stripping of rights, final say, and ability to protest and you have a nicely packaged fascist agreement. Writers, this is not the future of publishing. And while I know all of my loyal readers are too smart to fall for a contract like Frey’s, there are others out there who hide behind larger advances and prey on the un-agented, feasting on their unprotected, and often uninformed, flesh.

My anger toward this is not motivated by selfishness. Yes, the very essence of my job is being tossed aside and put into question by this “other option,” but there’s a reason agents become agents. And it’s not fame or fortune, trust me. It’s also not to force writers into a bureaucracy and reap so-called benefits from them, like some writers (usually the rejected ones) sometimes believe. We get into this business because we love books and writers and want to see them succeed. And yes, the more money you make, the more money we make. This is our job, after all. While I can’t speak for all agents, I’ll say that a huge commission check is just an added bonus. Most of us do this because we honestly love it. We’re your advocates and protectors who speak on your behalf because too many people like Frey exist.

Now, there’s that other side of me. The one who is now going to speak as an MFA graduate. What makes me afraid of this Fiction Factory is that I know how many people will be tempted to take Frey up on his offer of doom. I have many opinions about my MFA, not all of them positive and most of which having to due with it being an expensive and useless degree. But, I entered a “NY literary scene” I was desperate to be a part of and it did, truly, make me a better writer.

That said, all I “learned” at The New School was how to be a better writer. My writing seminars and literature courses only had one educational motive – craft, craft, craft. No one ever bothered to prepare us for actual publication, or even how to go about getting an agent. If I wasn’t already interning at an agency at the time, I probably wouldn’t have even thought about the actual logistics of getting published. In fact, hardly anyone mentioned the word “published” at all, but we were all forced to attend a three-week seminar on teaching. I guess for when we all failed and needed a fall-back career. No one went to this seminar after the first meeting, myself included.

Writers, as followers of blogs you know this, but as a reminder: getting published is not just (finally!) seeing your book in print. It’s, ideally, your new career, and like any job, you are guaranteed protection for your contributions to “the company.” We’re like your boss, but instead of enforcing a dress code or making you attend awkward office parties, we just pay you. While it’s a fun and rewarding business, it’s also a business, and to think otherwise is irresponsible. This is one of my biggest problems with MFA programs. Writing for the sake of writing is all well and good, but if you want to turn it into a career, writing students are discouraged more than encouraged, and are rarely, if ever, given the facts.

If all you want is to just see your book in print, then self-publishing or Frey-style rip-offs probably would suit you just fine. But if you want to be an author, then hard work, perseverance, and having “the system” give you your due is what will make you successful. The easy way out is very tempting, especially in a business that makes you wait for every little thing, but giving in to a Frey contract is against your best interest and just plain heartbreaking for those of us who know better. You deserve more, writers.

Have Social Networking Sites Made Us Dumb?

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 13 Comments

Clarification: Not dumb, as in stupid. Rather, dumb, as in mute – or, wordless.

I am a big fan of the writer’s message board and reference site, Absolute Write. It’s an incredibly useful site; it builds writers’ communities, provides support, and I would in no way ever make fun of and say anything negative about it. Something amusing I noticed when glancing through the forum topics in my Google Reader, however, is the subject titles of each new conversation. Examples from this weekend:

“i poop rainbows”
“so, is it possible without broken bones?”
“grandchild for sale, 30K. supplies limited”
“Lindsay Graham advocates mass murder”
“we don’t need another hero?”
“no rest for the wicked”
I’m assuming these threads have to do with writing in some way, but maybe not. It got me thinking “what do writers really talk about in open forums?” (My alternate title for this blog post was “What We Talk About When We Don’t Talk About Writing.”) Most likely, these topics are intended for research purposes. (Who amongst us hasn’t Googled “centaur mating rituals” in the name of “authenticity?”) But, I’m sure many forum discussions have less to do with someone’s work-in-progress, and more to do with starting a conversation with someone about something on his or her mind. I find this neither negative nor positive, as far as productivity is concerned; I simply find it curious.
Ironically, one of the forum discussions on Absolute Write this weekend was titled “Social Networks Destroy Your Privacy.” I have my issues with Mark Zuckerberg as much as the next social networker, but I’m not one of those people who think social media sites are out to get us. They’re guilty of taking a mile when we give them an inch, but that’s about it. They wouldn’t be able to exploit us if we didn’t give them just enough to use. 
This is where using social media sites for their intended purposes comes into play. If we’re using Facebook for reasons other than connecting with friends (and stalking), and using Twitter as a source of talking about what we made for dinner, rather than when our book is coming out, and, finally, using literary blogs and message boards as a means to discuss anything other than writing or books, then why wouldn’t these sites take advantage of us? We’re giving them way more than is necessary for them to survive, so why not take the excess and find a way to monetize it?
There is, of course, an alternative side to “saying too much.” A more positive side. If any of you follow me on Twitter, you know that I don’t always tweet about books… or writing… or publishing… OK, sometimes I just tweet about TV or what I did that day. Am I giving the Twitter gods authority to spam me with stuff I later have to block? Sure. But I also have developed relationships with writers, editors, and other agents whom I’ve never met in real life. I’ve even set up a couple meetings with editors as a result of discovering common interests. As someone who is still relatively new to the world of agenting, I’ve found it incredibly useful and fun to let other sides of me show via social media. 
The benefits of sharing recipes, discussing current events, and talking about your families via social media sites are obvious when you look to publishing and writers’ blogs and see the same people comment on every post. These people know each other, and their comments turn into conversations, which lead to friendships, bonds, and critique groups. To me, people who say e-friendships aren’t real are clearly not using social media to its full advantage. (That said, I’m a big believer in boundaries. Hence, I will not be your friend on Facebook.)
What do you all think? Have we been given so many literary outlets that we’ve now run out of things to say? Or is the “nothing” just another part of being social?

Strength, Weakness, & Why Everyone Gets Feminism Wrong

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 20 Comments

There was some discussion this week about what makes a so-called “strong female character,” and since I’m often touting that I want that very thing in a novel, I thought I’d offer my two cents. It all started with Natalie Whipple, YA author and my former fake-battle-of-the-band nemesis. She blogged on Wednesday that she hates the term “strong female character” because it usually implies that there is only one way to be strong. In response, and further elaboration, Sarah Jae-Jones examined what it means to be feminine and the variations of “strength” it indicates.

I call myself a feminist and I don’t understand how anyone, male or female, can say they are not one. Feminism is the belief that women are equal to men, and that women have the freedom to make their own choices. That’s all it is. We are not militant radical hairy-legged man-haters intent on ridding the world of all things male. The thing about applying labels to yourself is that, suddenly, you become every negative connotation that label has ever represented.

Another example, though on a far less ideological scale, is the casual science fiction fan. Say you like sci-fi or fantasy to the average person and you become pegged as a Babylon 5-loving, Dungeons and Dragons-playing, convention-attending fanatic. (How many times have I experienced the “judgmental nose crinkle” after one hears my favorite show has the word “vampire” in it? Yeah, a lot.)

The point is, it’s easier to generalize; the extreme of a situation is always more fun to consider than the reality. To me, real strength is rising above those labels and bringing their original meaning back to the forefront. (And yes, I am attending the Rally to Restore Sanity.) Strength is not the ability to be sassy, independent, or fall out of gender roles. (Sorry, but I buy impractical shoes and paint my nails and am afraid of spiders – and I like to think I’m pretty damn strong.) Strength is the ability to be yourself and be comfortable with that person. There are characters who are less self-assured and still considered strong, but we’ll get to that later.

So what do I mean when I say I’m looking for strong female characters? Well, it’s the same as what I mean when I say I want strong male characters. “Strong” women are not necessarily the single-and-proud modern femmes made popular by Sex and the City. Of course, those characters were strong, for the most part. That is, until the movies showed up and demanded Carrie needed a marriage license in order to be happy, even though the person she married was horribly emotionally abusive to her for over ten years.

But I digress.

Actually, it’s not digression. By making Carrie get married, her character was weakened. She represented the “It’s OK to be single!” crowd (started a movement, even!) and making her marry Big instead of just living monogamously ever after or (gasp!) remain “happily single” the way she did in the book, basically lobotomized her. Yet, making a character like Charlotte remain single would’ve just been upsetting. Her whole purpose was to find love and marriage and have babies. Not giving her that happy ending would have weakened her too. It would have said everything she worked for was all for nothing, and that her dreams were meaningless.

The ladies of SATC were by no means the originators of ambiguously happy endings in the form of marriage. Elizabeth Bennett wasn’t suddenly in less control of her life because she married Darcy at the end of Pride and Prejudice. What made Lizzie strong was her intellect, wit, and refusal to adhere to the restrictions of her time. We’d root for her no matter what she’s done because of who she is. If she ended up single at the end, she wouldn’t be tragic or a martyr. She’d still be Lizzie, who got there on her own terms.

There is also what I’ll call plot-based strength. Think of Ryan Bingham from Up in the Air (made famous by George Clooney in the movie). In Ryan’s case, independence and freedom are not always positive strong points. He is solitary and convinces himself he wants it that way. Then we see how lonely that life is, and just when we think he can finally connect with someone… he doesn’t. The ending is incredibly sad, but the novel sets it up to be that way. Sad endings aren’t always deep and happy endings aren’t always an easy way out. But, in Ryan’s case, his sad ending existed to make the reader reflect. Like Lizzie, it almost didn’t matter if the character found happiness through another human being or whether he decided being alone is what he really wanted. It was his time, place, and circumstances that made him who he is. If we knew him in real life, would we consider him a strong, confident man? Maybe not. But he does make for one strong character.

Back to my original question, now: what do I mean when I say I want strong characters? I want people who transcend the labels, who are multi-dimensional, and who’s endings are in keeping with what they want or deserve. Words like “strong” or “weak” only apply to how you write your characters and what types of lives you want them to have.

To me, the weakest character in all of literature is Bella Swan. She is passive, unremarkable, and has no purpose other than to be the object of crazy-stalker-boyfriend’s affection. She is the poster child for low self-esteem and teaches girls all over the country that it’s OK to be controlled, bitten, and obsessed over, as long as the boy is cute enough. (Oh, and it’s perfectly fine to carry his claw-happy offspring, as long as you wait until marriage and give up your humanity.)

The reason all of this makes Bella weak, other than the obvious, is because through it all, we’re still supposed to think of her as our heroine, and not as the tragic figure she really is.

Writing good characters, like feminism, is about choices. Whether your character is male or female, ask yourself if they were responsible for their story’s conclusion, and, if they weren’t, can it be considered redeeming or poignant.

Entitled

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 17 Comments

“And I am a writer, writer of fictions, I am the heart that you call home; And I’ve written pages upon pages, trying to rid you from my bones.” – The Decemberists, The Engine Driver

In a recent writing session, I asked former colleague/YA writer/all around awesome person, Tracy Marchini, when she gave her novels their titles. The answer: “right away.” Under normal writing circumstances, I wouldn’t have even asked because obviously the title comes first. But this wasn’t a normal writing circumstance for me – I was writing fiction.

As most of you know from following the blog, I’m (painfully slowly) writing some YA fiction at the moment (again, a painfully long moment that will someday lead to a finished novel, I hope). I’m enjoying the process immensely, when I find the time for it, but in my mind, I still would not refer to myself as a writer of fiction. To me, I’m still a personal essayist who simply ran out of (true) things to say for the time being.

With my non-fiction, which includes these blog posts, I think of a title first. Sometimes that’s all I have. I either think it sounds clever or captures the spirit of what I’m writing about. With essays, themes are layered, but they usually revolve around the same central issue. Novels rarely can be wrapped up so tightly. Their titles range from encapsulating an idea to a particularly good line of dialogue to a one-word, thought-provoking concept. The endless possibilities make my brain hurt, which is why the file currently frowning at me from my desktop reads “UntitledYA.doc.”

How do you all think of titles? Do they come first or do you, as the quote above says, write pages upon pages before you can rid title-block from your bones?

George Lucas vs. Aaron Sorkin

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 12 Comments

I’m back, friends! I spent a week in 65-degree upstate New York where I escaped NYC craziness and worked on my YA-in-progress. Despite a pretty great week, I have to say it’s good to be home. (What can I say, I loves me some craziness. The return to 90-degree humidity, however, is a different story…)

While writing this week, I noticed that I write a lot of dialogue. Or at least more dialogue than narration. This is neither good nor bad in my opinion, but it got me thinking about writing conversations in general. I’m a big dialogue person – old-fashioned Bogie and Bacall banter, I eat it up. But how much does it really matter? For me, it’s the first thing I notice when reading or watching something, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily the most important thing I look for. When reading requested material, queries, what-have-you, I usually see one of two extremes when dialogue doesn’t work. I’ll call it the George Lucas vs. Aaron Sorkin problem.

Explanation.

Take George Lucas. Star Wars has proven decade after decade that Lucas’ story of a galaxy far, far away resonates with audiences, regardless of generation. He’s reinvented the franchise yet again with Clone Wars, which is currently being enjoyed by the grandchildren of those who were first shocked over the identity of Luke’s dad. (Don’t worry; I won’t ruin it for you.)

Yet, one thing George Lucas is notoriously guilty of (which he’s even accepted himself) is that he cannot write dialogue. Like, at all. Sure, Han’s “I know” to Leia’s “I love you” was pretty badass, but given the rest of the lackluster attempts at romance, I think this gem was simply the result of Lucas’ inability to convey genuine emotion.

Lucas proves that you don’t need deeply meaningful conversation, witty banter, or even a college-level vocabulary to engage a massive audience. It should come as a surprise to no one that Star Wars is one of my favorite movies, but consider for a minute if it was a novel (and also ignore the many novelizations that already exist). After a few pages of “I’ll be careful”/”You’ll be dead!” exchanges, I think I’d be ready to throw in the towel. Some things just don’t translate to the page with the same effect.

Aaron Sorkin, on the other hand, has the opposite problem. Now, before I explain the “problem” I have with a person whom I consider a master of dialogue, I will state that The West Wing remains one of the greater written shows of all time, and that I’ve loved everything Sorkin has ever written and/or created. With one exception – Studio 60. So, that will be my focus here. Studio 60, to me, represents exactly what not to do as a writer, even if you’re an incredibly gifted writer. 

Sorkin has a philosophy that one should never talk down to one’s audience. This is evident in his writing, and he stated it blatantly in Studio 60. I agree with him to an extent, but in the case of this “missing of the mark,” let’s say, he manages to take his trademark smart, witty, heightened language and turn it into whiny, preachy, condescending monologue. Even in near-perfect shows like Sports Night and The West Wing, Sorkin has been guilty of preaching. Since I usually fell into the choir he was he preaching to, I never really minded, but there were times where even I felt the eye roll-worthiness of some of Bartlett and Leo’s seemingly unrelated anecdotes in reference to world-changing decisions.

With Studio 60, Sorkin took his preaching to a new level. Clearly still pissed at NBC for firing him from The West Wing, he managed to create an entire show of monologues that made fairly accurate points about unfairness, network greed, and censorship, among others. What he forgot to do while making these Obama-level speeches was to develop an actual plot. Stories and characters on television are created through dialogue, which is another thing he forgot to write. Or, at least, forgot to write it well. Hence, the show failed.

Lucas’ ability to create a world in which people want to lose themselves is a testament to his talent as a writer. Whereas Sorkin’s apparent inability to use words for anything other than wit and intellect is a testament to his particular talent. On the page, however, a balance needs to be struck, whether you’re writing commercial or literary fiction. Exceptions are always made, depending on genre and style, but (for me, at least) I like seeing both factors given equal, or near-equal, weight.

How important is dialogue to you, and how do you approach it as writers? Does every word count toward the plot, or do you let your characters speak tangentially, the way people do in real life? Tell me how you balance your story, dialogue, and character development.

Voice, Balance, & How to Avoid Mary Sues

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 11 Comments

I’ve been thinking a bit about voice and, more specifically, how do I make mine distinct? I’m taking a break from my role as agent today and giving my semi-annual appearance here as a writer. As some of you might know, I’ve been struggling through my first attempt at fiction. The main characters are based on people in real life, myself being one of them. But I’m finding that as I further develop the plot, my character is changing from its real life roots. Suddenly, I’m not writing “fictional me” anymore; I’m writing someone else completely.

Creative Writing 101 will tell writers to “find their voice.” An author’s voice is a way to personalize their fiction, give it their stamp, and is a way to connect their novels even when they are completely independent from each other. Style, tone, use of language… all of these go into the ever-important “voice.”

Something important for writers to ask themselves is whether their voice and their characters’ voices are two separate entities. Fiction writers base characters on themselves all the time, and (as I mentioned, here) drawing from what you know can often lead to the best ideas. But where is the line between you and them, and how do you keep that balance?

As authors, your writing style comes through in descriptions, narration, themes, and types of characters you create. Those are what readers will associate with you when they recognize your name in bookstores. Once you create your characters and settings, however, you need to switch your focus every time your character says or does anything. Some questions to consider when making this switch:

  • – What type of person is my main character?
  • – Is this how I would react in this situation, or is this how my character would?
  • – Do I use this phrase all the time, or can I allow my character to say it as well?
  • – Given the context and tone of the novel, should my character act this way?
  • – Is my character’s name just my own name spelled backwards?

Not being able to find a balance between your own voice and your characters’ can lead to the unwanted evolution of Mary Sues. If you want to know where the term comes from, feel free to Wiki (fun back story). But, basically, a Mary Sue is a stand-in for the author in a piece of fiction.

Mary Sues are frowned upon and ridiculed by your literary peers, but they are by no means deal-breakers. I can think of two massively popular novels out right now that feature these characters: Twilight and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Mikael Blomkvist is essentially if Stieg Larsson was cast as James Bond (literally) and Bella Swan looks and acts exactly like Stephanie Meyer except omgeveryguywantsher, including the two hottest guys on the planet!

Before you say to yourself, “Yes! NYT Bestseller list, here I come!” remember this: These books are insanely popular because their stories resonated with bajillions of readers, not because these characters were particularly engaging, or even well-crafted. The characters who are memorable and more often discussed from these novels are Edward, Jacob, and Lisbeth – the ones who required more thought from the authors.

Next time you sit down to write, think about your main character. Is he or she just you in a different context? Hopefully you avoid the Mary Sue trap, but if you absolutely can’t, is your story strong enough to back it up?

Age Ain’t Nothin’ But a Number

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 11 Comments

Lately I’ve noticed a trend in query letters that does not involve overused supernatural beings or the dreaded rhetorical question. This trend is new to me, but maybe other agents have experienced it. In several letters, the authors, those who happen to be teenagers, are apologizing for their ages. 

As far as query trends go, this is probably the least annoying, but writers – young writers – don’t do this! Apologizing for yourself not only weakens you right out of the gate, but it’s also completely unnecessary. I mean, did Mozart ever say “Sorry guys, I know I’m only six years old, but I’m about to blow your mind?” No. All he did was blow people’s minds! No apology offered or needed.

Evidence of amazing teen writers is everywhere. S.E. Hinton, Amelia Atwater-Rhodes, Nick McDonell, and Christopher Paolini were all successful teen authors. And the new class featuring the likes of Steph Bowe (GIRL SAVES BOY) and Kody Keplinger (THE DUFF) looks pretty impressive too! (Both writers were highlighted during the Glass Cases “Teen Writers Week” back in April – see Steph’s profile and Kody’s profile for more info on them!) I doubt today’s young writers feel as if they don’t deserve recognition for their work just because they never had to write it on a typewriter. Just as I’m sure the former teen all-stars don’t feel guilty or ashamed of their early successes.

When I am reading queries, I never wonder how old the writer is. Honestly, I don’t care at all until they tell me, and even then I just say “hm.. that seemed unnecessary.” If you want to stick in at the end of your pitch that you are a freshman in high school (well, only if this is true), then go ahead. It might catch my eye ONLY if the novel is of any interest to me. And if you are a freshman in high school and researching agents at all, I think that’s pretty impressive, so please don’t apologize for it!

Likewise, I’ve received queries from people in their sixties and seventies who have also felt the need to tell me their ages. This, I understand even less. As with their younger counterparts, these writers also ask for forgiveness for being “so old,” especially if they do not have previous writing credentials. But when they’re not apologizing for things they cannot control, they are attributing various obstacles involved in completing their novels to their ages, as if being sixty-eight years old is somehow akin to having no legs, arms, or eyes.

If I reject a ninety-year-old, it’s because the novel wasn’t for me, not because the writer is ninety. And if I make an offer to a twelve-year-old, it’s because I loved his or her work, not because I love the idea of exploiting their wunderkind-ness to my advantage. The writing is what matters, and good writing transcends age. Always. 

Sure, I might be impressed if I read what I think is the next Gatsby, only to find out the writer is eleven, but age will never be a deal-breaker, whether positive or negative. On the flip side of that, sometimes it is obvious that a writer is not quite mature enough to tell the story he or she is trying to tell, but again, it has nothing to do with their actual age. In the same way a memoirist requires distance and perspective to create a truly effective piece, young writers need time and space and, more often, practice to create an objectively “good” story. Just like the rest of us.

So whether you were born in the Clinton administration or the Hoover,  please stop being so sorry and let your writing speak for itself.